


At least I make commission

by sassyericawithaflowercrown



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Also she wears Derek's jacket, Gen, Lydia has some sass, and Cora is awkward, and derek is still alpha, and works at the mall, because ITS NOT TEARING EVERYONES HEARTS OUT, because he's creepy, canon divergant, implied sterek, in the juniors department or macys, peter is a creep, though only for like a second, yeah idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassyericawithaflowercrown/pseuds/sassyericawithaflowercrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Peter had told himself to a job was better than sitting around the loft with a bunch of brooding adolescences once the aftermath of the darach and alpha pack had died down.<br/>Of course Beacon Hills wasn’t an option. Good looks could really only get you so far when you were wanted for murder. And you know… assumed dead.<br/>But weighing his options the extra leg work to get a job a town or two over was better than any alternative. So he promptly set out on the hunt for work-- which mostly consisted of wooing some older store managers and faking some background checks.<br/>Being dead gave you a lot of time to pick up useful tricks."</p><p>Or the fic where Peter works at the mall selling clothes to hormonal teens. And he isn't even the biggest pervert out of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At least I make commission

**Author's Note:**

> So before tonight's heart wrenching episode of teen wolf the wonderful Jesserfly and I were talking about random shit like normal and came up with the idea of peter creeping at Macy's. Actually he was supposed to creep super hard on everyone but it seems the girls would creep just as hard. Because I mean... damn Peter. Anyway this is my cracky fic. Unbeta'd and all that jazz. But woohoo
> 
> (also sorry if there are little typos my nail came off today and it makes it really hard to type but I'm like 99.9% sure I caught them all orz)

_Get a job they said. It’ll be fun they said._

Well no. No one had actually told him to get a job. Actually everyone more or less treated Peter as the elephant in the room. And when he did run into the little pack of misfits on the occasions he was out and about, he was never greeted warmly. Derek himself was still too busy playing the hero (read: Martyr) to give him much mind when they shared each other’s company. Though Peter was very much aware of the alpha’s suspicions and glares.

So Peter had told himself to a job was better than sitting around the loft with a bunch of brooding adolescences once the aftermath of the darach and alpha pack had died down.

Of course Beacon Hills wasn’t an option. Good looks could really only get you so far when you were wanted for murder. And you know… assumed dead.

But weighing his options the extra leg work to get a job a town or two over was better than any alternative. So he promptly set out on the hunt for work-- which mostly consisted of wooing some older store managers and faking some background checks.

Being dead gave you a lot of time to pick up useful tricks.

-x-

When he presented the idea he wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting.

Cora had stifled laughter while Derek raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes.

“Surprisingly Derek, the whole glaring alpha face doesn’t work on me. I’ll be supervising a bunch mall goers wasting money. Not selling black market organs.” He assured his nephew over Cora’s rising giggles. “It’s nothing you should be concerned about.”

“What if someone recognizes you?” He growled out in response, arms crossed and wearing that trademark ‘I am Derek Hale, listen to me’ posture.

Peter shrugged. “It’s an hour drive away.” He didn’t need to justify himself to his nephew.

Cora had finally calmed herself over the initial shock and was now shaking her head. “Peter working in the mall.” She muttered to herself in an amused tone. Her attitude didn’t bother him. He was merely satisfied to hear the girl laugh for once since coming back. She was next to Derek in the whole angst department and despite previous actions he did care about his family.

Derek still didn’t seem convinced.

“I’m not going to eat any of them.”

Derek’s eyes widened as if that may have been a very plausible idea and Cora broke out in renewed laughter before leaving the room, obviously done with the exchange.

“With your track record I wouldn’t be surprised if you bit random teens.” It was spoken out of stubbornness over anything.

“Well if they offer I guess I wouldn’t be opposed.” Peter shrugged, dropping down to the couch. His nephew growled once again (seriously who was the crazed one here?) but stormed out of the room out after his sister with a huff. “Seriously Derek,” he muttered, getting comfortable in his seat. “I’m no animal.”

And that’s how Peter Hale—once an alpha, avenger of his families’ death (and the cause of one) – became a sales associate at Macy’s.

-x-

No one really thought it odd that he hung around the juniors department. At first it was sort of just an accident.

Sort of.

He gave a nostalgic smile as he was exiting the department store, passing girl’s formal wear and spotting a dress similar to the one Lydia had worn that night.

She would have been a great asset if she wasn’t immune. And she was still, as whatever she was. Helpful to their merry bunch in oh so many ways. Despite the fact she shot Peter a deadly glare whenever she laid eyes on him.

But it was eyeing the dress that he’d caught the attention of a group of teens.

One approached, coated in the scent of candy flavored perfume and anxiety. “Hey, you work here?” She was probably sent up as the brave one Peter noted by the way her friends were giggling a few feet away.

He caught snippets of their conversation, not bothering to strain to hear it all. It was written all over their faces.

“He’s so hot!”

“But staring at girl’s clothes? That’s creepy as hell.”

“Hot creepy.”

“Maybe he has a daughter?”

“I’d call him daddy if he asked nice enough.”

“—aw your name tag and just kind of figure.” The girl in front of him was trailing off awkwardly.

Peter turned to face her completely, his hands sliding into his pockets. “I do.” He offered her a smile, mentally patting himself on the back for the flustered blush it caused. “Though girl’s clothing isn’t exactly my department,” He resisted the urge to shoot a look to the girl who had claimed him creepy before continuing. “But perhaps I could help you find something?”

The girl clapped her hands together and beamed. “That would be fantastic.” She waved over her friends, her grin laced with obvious pride at a job well done. “We have a party coming up and we need dresses.” The rest of the crowd was on her heels moments later, nodding.

“Well I’m sure we can find something to fit all your lovely forms.”

Creepy?

Not at all. It just so happened the ability to make underage girls swoon was something that ran in Hale family genes. And like most things- got better with age. And sealing five sales close to three hundred dollars each? While he was off the clock?

It worked in his favor. After that they stuck him in juniors almost every day he worked.

He made decent commission telling self-conscious girls which shirt would fit them best and what color looked good on their skin.

It wasn’t like the man had any idea about trends or fashion; he merely stood there and flashed his grin, nodding a long as the girls asked their questions.

“How do you think this would look on me?”

“Does this dress make my chest look good?”

“This isn’t too short is it?”

It was all very entertaining.

Even when he got unexpected visitors.

-x-

Ah he’d recognize that feeling of daggers anywhere as a new group approached the area he held court over.

“Well hello there,”

The red head (strawberry blonde if you asked the Stilinski kid) was standing a few feet away and glaring as if his existence was particularly disgusting to her.

Next to her, each holding a decent amount of bags from other stores in the mall, were Cora and Stiles, neither bothering to hide their snicker (though Stiles was standing a bit in front of Lydia, as if protecting her while he did.)

“I thought you were shitting me, Cora, seriously. This is exactly what I needed to lift my mood.” Stiles shook his head as he laughed.

“Aw Stiles,” Peter cooed, stepping forward. “The honeymoon phase with my nephew not as blissful as you thought?” God this kid was easy to read when it came to certain subjects.

It was Lydia to speak next, coming to his aid without a second thought.

“Well I thought she was lying too.” She started, her guarded expression turning to a sneer. “But I guess seeing you here puts things in perspective.” With that she turned, walking towards the racks of clothing.

“And what perspective is that?” He inquired, only partially interested in the reply.

“That despite your second coming and all you’re still only in the position to hold my bags.”

Stiles’ pouting was cut short by renewed laughter as he joined her by a couple of brightly colored shirts. Cora patted her uncle on the shoulder as if attempting to repair some injury his pride may have taken.

Peter let out a sigh “So what are you miscreants doing here anyway?” He asked, tilting his head down towards his niece. She shrugged lazily in reply.

“Lydia claims she’s tired of my GI Jane wardrobe and that I need to get some shopping done.” Rolling her eyes, Cora fidgeted with the hem of her jacket—which Peter could have sworn was almost the exact same leather one Derek wore on an almost daily basis—before following after the others. “It was an excuse to get out of the loft.”

Peter followed for a step or two before eyeing another group.

Hopeless looking dad stacked with bags and led by a daughter wearing her Coach sunglasses on her head. That was a sale he wanted a part of. He did make commission after all. Whether it was paid for with daddy’s money or not.

Lydia drew him back before he could retreat.

“Um excuse me,” She snapped, flipping her hair over her shoulder and fixing Peter with a look. “We’re going to require your services.”

“You’ll handle yourself fine without my help Lydia.” He replied easily, before his expression slid into a dark smirk “Though didn’t I pick out a great dress for that winter dance?”

She obviously stiffened and Peter knew it was a low blow.

“No.” Her voice was vicious. As vicious as a five foot three girl could be with a grown werewolf, before enacting her own special brand of payback. “I want your help specifically. Besides Stiles and Cora both have had enough time holding bags.” She grinned nodding towards him. As if they had been instructed word by word the two stepped towards Peter and dumped their spoils into his hands. “Or I can call your manager?”

Maybe a job serving California teens wasn’t the best idea.


End file.
